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Opening every door for Hizashi was definitely unnecessary, but while his husband hadn’t been this badly injured in a long time, Shouta knows the blond always enjoyed being pampered when sick. He was more than willing to give Hizashi whatever he wanted, though, from experience, he also knew going in with that mindset would probably come back to bite him in the ass. Hizashi was prone to attempting to push the limits of Shouta’s good charity.
He’d deal with that then.
Right now, Hizashi was hardly in a teasing mood. He’d barely asked for anything unreasonable the few days spent at the hospital after waking, besides maybe a few more kisses than Shouta probably should have allowed.
The blond’s lack of energy and absence of playful jokes was concerning, but understandable. Shouta was fine with giving him time to heal.
As he steps aside to let Hizashi through the entranceway, he thinks about the way the other man’s hands shook the first time Hizashi had seen the large wound around his neck when they’d tried cleaning him up a bit.
Shouta just hopes time is all it takes.
Once inside their house, finally, Hizashi lets out a small, relieved sigh. He leans against the wall as Shouta bends down to remove his shoes. Taking Hizashi’s hand, Shouta guides him into the living room, where their cats immediately jump off the couch and begin circling Hizashi’s legs, meowing loudly. On more than one occasion over the past two weeks, Shouta had caught their grey girl, Maya, sitting in the hall watching the front door when Hizashi had not returned at night.
Hizashi smiles and awkwardly shift his legs around. It takes Shouta a moment to realize he can’t look down to avoid stepping on the cats with the neck brace on.
“Here, I got you,” Shouta says, steering Hizashi to the couch and shooing away their cats. “He’ll pet you later, go on,” he shakes his foot at Maya when she tries to dive at Hizashi’s leg. Looking more than a little put off, she slinks away.
Hizashi slides down in the cushions so his head can rest against the back of the couch, closing his eyes. Shouta sits beside him, placing his hand on Hizashi’s thigh and smoothing his hand up and down in a soothing motion.
“How are you feeling?” he asks. “Your next dose of painkillers isn’t for another hour, but the doctor said you can take it early if you need to.”
Hizashi lets out a little humming noise, then, “I feel okay. I can wait.”
Shouta narrows his eyes.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m just tired, Sho.”
Shouta squeezes his leg and gives it a little pat, leaning in to kiss Hizashi’s cheek. Those green eyes flutter open, the one still a little swollen around the edges now that the bandage had been removed. Hizashi gives him a small smile. Shouta knows it’s genuine, that Hizashi doesn’t usually bother putting on airs once he’s home and has shucked his hero persona in the entry way. This is just all he can manage right now.
“Alright, well…we got an hour to kill before you can take your pills and go to bed. Can I convince you to eat something?”
Hizashi closes his eyes and pouts. The doctors wanted him eating mostly soft foods and liquids, which Hizashi was not happy about. The one thing he’d wanted, besides Shouta’s lips, was dango. He’d asked for it over and over. Dango wasn’t even Hizashi’s favorite food, so why he was so stuck on this one sweet little dumpling was beyond Shouta, but he’d been begging for it every meal since waking up.
Technically, dango was soft.
It was also incredibly chewy. The nurse had spent more time than necessary trying to explain to Hizashi that his jaw was connected to his throat and too much chewing would strain his tender muscles, but Hizashi had just crossed his arms and frowned.
He’d pushed the tofu around in his miso soup with an unhappy face and asked for dango again the next day.
Shouta said he’d give Hizashi whatever he wanted, but he wasn’t about to let him hurt himself.
“Takoyaki?” Shouta asks.
Hizashi’s eyes open, eyebrows pulled together, curious.
“I know you want dango, but I’m sorry, I can’t give that to you,” Shouta explains. “Takoyaki is…similar in shape?”
“It’s a completely different taste,” Hizashi whines.
“I know, but that’s the best I can do. I’m trying to help you, Zashi,” Shouta sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll get you dango as soon as the doctor says it’s okay.”
Hizashi sighs, “Fineeeeee.”
“Fine, you want takoyaki?”
“No, not really,” Hizashi admits. “Can you just get me crackers or something?”
Shouta nods, frowning.
“Will you eat one of my jelly packs at least? You need to eat more than crackers with your meds.”
“Only if it’s the mango one,” Hizashi says.
Shouta rolls his eyes. That one was the hardest to find, and of course, Hizashi’s favorite. He wasn’t a huge mango fan himself, and only really bought that flavor for when Hizashi got home late from patrol or a show and couldn’t be bothered to make actual food.
He makes his way to the kitchen and is happy to find one mango packet in the fridge, making a mental note to pick more up tomorrow, anticipating Hizashi’s poor appetite isn’t going to go anywhere anytime soon. When he returns to the living room, having only been gone a few minutes, Hizashi is already breathing deeply, a light snore starting.
Shouta sets the crackers and packet down on the coffee table and pats Hizashi’s leg.
“Hey, wake up. Come on, Zashi.”
“Mmm?” Hizashi grumbles out, his body falling a bit toward Shouta. He catches the blond before he slips too far, straightening him back up as he opens his eyes.
“Eat some of this for me and then we’ll go see about getting you a proper bath, how does that sound?”
Hizashi perks up at the mention of soap and water, eyes going wide as he reaches out toward the food and makes a grabbing motion. Shouta hands him the crackers and jelly and watches with a small smile on his face as Hizashi goes from nibbling at the corners of the bland snack to taking large bites and gulps of the packet as his stomach seems to remember it exists.
He squeezes the last of the jelly into his mouth and then says, “Done!” The louder, clear voice makes Shouta’s heart skip. Hizashi had been mumbling and whispering too much the past few days.
Shouta laughs a little at his enthusiasm for a bath and helps pull Hizashi up off the sofa.
As they make it to the bedroom, and Shouta leaves Hizashi by the bed to wiggle out of the loose sweatpants he’d been wearing, nerves start setting in. He turns on the faucet, holding his hand under to test the temperature.
The harsh contrast of Hizashi’s burn against his otherwise normally glowing, tan skin was unsettling.
It was enough to kill both their moods, a reminder of that night, of how close Hizashi had come to death.
Shouta takes his hand out from under the water, shaking it out as he sucks in a deep breath and pushes himself off his knees.
He’s fine now, he tells himself.
Hizashi is standing in the bedroom, waiting, pants around his ankles, but shirt and underwear still on. He has tucked his hands inside his sleeves and flaps them at Shouta as he approaches.
“Help meeeee,” Hizashi whines, and the playful tone to his voice, the way his arms flail, makes a bit of Shouta’s worries slip away.
Maybe Hizashi wouldn’t be bothered by his reflection in the mirror the way he had been back at the hospital.
Maybe this would be alright.
Shouta catches the loose fabric in his hands and tugs gently on the sleeves. “Caught you,” he teases.
“I wanted you to,” Hizashi responds.
Shouta’s cheeks heat up for a moment as Hizashi’s eyelids slip down a tad, a smirk spreading across his face.
“Shush,” Shouta chides. They certainly couldn’t do anything too physical with Hizashi hurt this way. The injured man should know this.
Hizashi sticks out his tongue as Shouta helps pull his arms through the sleeves. He tugs the shirt up Hizashi’s chest, but stops when he reaches the neck. He lets the bunched up fabric sit around Hizashi’s shoulders.
“I need to take the brace off first,” he says.
Hizashi’s smile drops off.
“Yeah,” he says.
Shouta frowns as he reaches around to undo the snaps holding the thick, padded brace closed. He carefully opens it and slides it off, leaning down to set it on the edge of the bed behind Hizashi. When he straightens back up, Hizashi has pulled his shirt off over his head and is standing very still. He is staring forward, just where Shouta had left him.
“You can relax, just don’t turn your head too much,” Shouta says, but Hizashi doesn’t. Shouta takes his hand and pulls him along into the bathroom, hoping the warm water will help ease some of the tension that has returned to Hizashi’s body.
“Don’t look in the mirror,” Shouta warns him. Hizashi keeps his eyes downward as Shouta pulls off his shirt and hangs it on the hook by the door.
“Is it bad?”
The question takes him by surprise. It’s quiet, and comes when his back is turned.
“What?” Shouta asks, facing Hizashi.
“Is it bad?”
“You’ve already seen it.”
“I know but…do you think it’s bad?”
“Do I…?” Shouta trails off.
Does he think…?
“Hizashi, are you…you can’t possibly be concerned that I think…what? It’s ugly?”
Hizashi’s eyes shift to the side, away from Shouta.
“It will scar.”
“Yeah, probably,” Shouta says, stepping closer to him. He reaches out to grab Hizashi’s hands. “You have a number of those already, last I checked, and so do I.”
“This is…big…though.”
Shouta goes against his own words, moving Hizashi to stand in front of the mirror. Hizashi keeps his eyes downward, though.
“I will never care how many scars you get, Hizashi, only that you survive the things that gave them to you.”
Shouta pauses, bringing his hands up to Hizashi’s shoulders, squeezing softly from where he stands behind the blond.
“I don’t think you’re so vain to be concerned about that either. I don’t think that’s what is bothering you, is it?”
Hizashi’s bottom lip juts out further, trembles a bit.
“I…I guess not.”
“So what is?”
Hizashi’s eyes slowly shift from the floor to the mirror. When his gaze falls there, his whole body shudders.
“It…” he tries to start, and then bites his lip. A few seconds pass before Hizashi speaks again. “I’m scared.”
“Of what?” Shouta asks.
“When I look at it…I feel…I remember…”
“You remember how it felt?” Shouta’s frown deepens, his forehead crinkling with worry lines. He’d thought Hizashi was remembering the same things Shouta did, that the thought of the wound scarring upset him because it would remind him of his mortality, and that he could be broken, but it was more than that.
He’d assumed Hizashi had blacked out, that after the explosion, it had all gone black.
He’d assumed, as had the surgeons and doctors and EMTs, that Hizashi had gone blissfully unaware.
They were wrong.
Shouta’s stomach flips and he starts to feel sick.
How long had Hizashi been conscious before he’d passed out?
How long had he felt the metal burning into his skin?
Shouta shivers.
“Hizashi…I’m so sorry.”
It’s all he can say.
He can’t take the phantom pain away. Sometimes a harsh sting will shoot up his elbow and he’ll be jerked awake by the memory of his skin and muscle flaking away piece by piece.
He couldn’t make Hizashi forget, he couldn’t take that memory away.
Shouta steps forward, carefully wrapping his arms around Hizashi’s shoulders, pulling him against his bare chest. He kisses Hizashi’s upper back.
He could replace them, though.
He could take those harsh, angry thoughts and replace them with something better.
“I know it hurts,” Shouta whispers into Hizashi’s shoulder. “I know. I’m sorry you had to go through that, I’m sorry…you’ll probably feel like this for a while…I know what it’s like, but I promise you, it doesn’t last. This will fade. Your mind will heal slower than your throat, but it will heal.”
Shouta slides his hand down Hizashi’s chest and around his side, lifting off to grab his hand.
“And I will help you,” he promises.
Shouta looks back up to the mirror, locking eyes with Hizashi in the reflection, and smiles at him. Hizashi’s returning grin is shaky and uneven, a single tear slipping down his cheek, but his hand squeezes Shouta’s back.
“Thank you,” he breathes out.
“You’ll get through this,” Shouta assures him. He steps away from Hizashi and turns him around, pulling him toward the tub. He helps his husband take off his underwear and step in. He lowers Hizashi down into the water before he shucks off the rest of his clothes to settle behind Hizashi.
He grabs the rag and soap and begins lathering it up. Hizashi leans back against his chest, letting out a long sigh. Shouta starts cleaning Hizashi’s front first, dragging the soapy rag over his stomach in soft, circular motions that are more for the other man’s comfort than anything.
“About the scar,” Shouta starts, and he feels Hizashi stiffen for a moment. “I was worried…a bit. When I see these bruises, I think about how small and lifeless you looked on that bed when you were sedated. I was afraid too…that when it scars I’ll see it and think of how close you came to…how close I came to losing you…but…” he stills his hand, holding the rag over Hizashi’s chest. “But I think instead I will think about this…I’ll think about how happy I was to see you open your eyes. I’ll think about sitting in this tub with you, helping you wash off every day. I’ll think about how strong you are, how you stayed alive…”
“For you.”
“What?”
Hizashi sits up, turning around, and this time his smile is confident as he reaches out to grab Shouta’s face, his thumbs smoothing over Shouta’s cheeks.
“You’ll think about how I stayed alive, for you.”
Shouta has to resist the urge to grab the back of Hizashi’s head and pull him into a kiss, thankfully, Hizashi has mercy on him and initiates it, coming in slow and lightly pressing their lips together. He kisses Shouta over and over, on his mouth, on his cheek, on his nose, and forehead.
He pulls back and says, “I was so happy to see you there when I woke up. I knew you would be there…but I was still so happy…” Hizashi hiccups a bit and Shouta reaches his hand up out of the water to overlap where Hizashi’s is still cupping his cheek.
“You were all I thought about before I blacked out. I just wanted to be with you. I just wanted to hold you…one last time...I…” Hizashi’s shoulders start to shake as tears start streaming down his face and Shouta shakes his head, shushing him gently.
“Shhh…Hizashi…it’s okay. It’s okay, you’re okay,” he repeats, rubbing his thumb along the back of Hizashi’s hand. “We’re okay. You’re home. You’re safe.”
Hizashi nods his head and then winces, stilling his movements. He lets out a few little gasps before gathering himself enough to speak again.
“I know, I just…I just meant that…that I love you so much and you’re the reason I’m here. I know it’s stupid and sappy and you can say it’s not true…that it was all medicine and stuff…I know that…but…it was you too. I love you so much, Sho.”
“I love you too. I couldn’t stand the thought of…I can’t lose you.”
“Let’s never do this again, huh?” Hizashi laughs, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “No more near death experiences. We both get one, that’s it. That’s all I’m allowing. I’m putting my foot down.”
Shouta laughs along, nodding his head.
“Yeah, okay. Sounds fair enough,” he smiles.
Hizashi kisses him one more time and then grabs Shouta’s wrist, pulling the hand with the soapy rag up out of the water and to Hizashi’s chest.
“Okay, enough sappy stuff! I’m filthy and now I’m going to be pruney too!”